Presence
by TribalGirl
Summary: GerIta.  Pure fluff.  So fluffy I know I'm going to regret it.


**OH GAWD THIS IS SO FLUFFY I am definitely going to regret this. In a couple months I will read this over and groan and facepalm at how sappy and clichéd it is. I'm going to want to take it down, but people will have faved it and reviewed it and I won't be able to - it's happened to me before, and it's just going to sit there like a thorn of bad writing in my side that I can't pull out. In fact, I'm being very shortsighted in posting this. BUT I COULDN'T RESIST.**

**So, yeah. Random over-the-top GerIta fluff. Enjoy.**

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><p>Germany crawled into bed, pulled the covers over himself, and waited for sleep. It was no use. He couldn't even get comfortable. He felt bruised and battered, mentally at least, from a long and exhausting day. So many things were going wrong, he barely had control over anything anymore...<p>

The ticking of his clock next to the bed continued, on and on, until he had no idea how long he'd been lying there, exhausted yet unable to sleep. He did, however, hear the quiet click of the door opening and the soft pad of bare feet on the floor.

The mattress bent with a slight creaking of springs, the covers rustled, and a familiar source of warmth settled next to him. Italy, he thought, but kept his eyes closed, pretending to sleep, not wanting to have to deal with an overly excitable nation in his state.

For a few minutes, there was nothing but quiet breathing from beside him. Then the sheets rustled, and Germany felt something on his face -

Hands. Those hands that so many times he'd watched paint bright splashes of colors, tie a daisy chain, fumble a gun and drop it, those hands that he'd bandaged, held, and soothed; those fingers were now fluttering over his face, light and soft as a butterfly's wings. They traveled over his eyebrows and down the angle of his nose, cool fingertips gently smoothing away the frown lines and rubbing small circles so that the muscles relaxed automatically. Germany was all too familiar with the sensation of those hands - he was bound to, with Italy being such a physically demonstrative person - but he'd never felt them like this, so tender and soothing. He, who so often had had to comfort Italy of his irrational fears, now found himself in the reverse position.

"Don't worry." Italy's voice was the barest whisper - _He thinks I'm still asleep_, Germany realized. "It'll be okay. It always is."

The fingers were now running through his hair, a gentle, steady rhythm. "And I'm still here. Italy's whisper continued, even quieter now. "I'll always be here..." He yawned, the noise loud in the stillness, and Germany felt the hands leave his head completely as a slim arm was wrapped around his shoulders. "I mean, I know you don't like me that much..." He heard Italy's head fall back onto the sheets, and the tips of their noses brushed together for a moment. "But that doesn't change that I..."

His voice trailed off.

Germany stayed still, hardly daring to breathe, waiting for the end of the sentence that had suddenly seemed so important to him. Then he heard a soft wheezing sigh that sent a gust of breath on his face, and he recognized it immediately: Italy had once again exercised his talent for falling asleep incredibly quickly.

Germany finally opened his eyes, knowing what he would see, but still finding it a bit of a shock to see Italy's face so close to his. The streetlight coming in through the window outlined his features; his eyes twitched slightly between closed eyelids, his breaths were light and soft, and his eyelashes threw faint shadows on his face. Germany found himself matching the rhythm of the other nation's breathing: in, out, in, out, slow and steady. The calming pace drew the tension from his shoulders, and he felt his whole body relax.

He was still weighed down with tiredness, but it was not the bone-deep weariness of before; rather it was the warm, soft comfort of drowsy sleep - and there was a safety to it, a security, with Italy beside him and the whispered promise lingering on the air... And Germany slid his arm around the other nation and pulled him closer, enjoying his warmth and softness and the fact that he was just _there_.

He fell asleep to the sound of breathing in tandem: in, out, in, out.

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><p><strong>Oh Gawd. So embarrassingly fluffy I know I'm going to regret it OTL Anyway, review please, I'd really appreciate it!<strong>


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